


For One Reason or Another (extended)

by thatdrumblonde



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pining, Smoking, implied Pharmercy, mccree and pharah sibling relationship, wingman genji
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-10-19 16:56:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10644126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatdrumblonde/pseuds/thatdrumblonde
Summary: Countless assassins were sent to kill the eldest Shimada heir. That’s what he got for leaving. None of them had ever succeeded. No one came close until now.McCree, the man that he is, rushed to protect Hanzo and got himself knocked over injured underneath the barrel of an enemy gun.--based on a prompt sent as an ask on tumblr. see notes for prompt. extended fic off something already posted; accidentally became a headcanon of mccree and hanzo's mutual pining. WIP.





	1. Dragons

**Author's Note:**

> "Prompt #2: A pair of wild "Noodle Dragons" appear during battle, without Hanzo sending them out and they rush to protect McCree from an attack that could have killed him. Genji laughing his ass off bc he knows exactly what this means, Hanzo does too but Jesse is the only one being like ???? What the fuck is going on?" --prompt submitted by mccrum to me on tumblr. prompt twisted as needed.  
> \--  
> This is an extended version of an already posted work. I don't know how I feel about it, but I'm gonna post it anyway and hopefully you guys enjoy it bye  
> ((block text in italics are flashbacks))

Countless assassins were sent to kill the eldest Shimada heir. That’s what he got for leaving. None of them had ever succeeded. No one came close until now. 

McCree, the man that he is, rushed to protect Hanzo and got himself knocked over injured underneath the barrel of an enemy gun. “Surrender or he dies!” the grunts commanded.

“You release him now!” Hanzo barked. 

“Hanzo,” he yelled weakly. “I ain't worth it. Run!”

“No! I will not let them take you!” 

“Hanzo, go!” 

_Click._ The reload of an impatient gun. 

“Don't!” gasped Hanzo. “Name your terms!” 

“You come with us, the American walks free.”

“I will disarm. You let him go first.” 

“Shimada, I swear to god! You dense idiot!” McCree growled. “I ain't worth this!”

An enemy kicked him to shut him up. Their last mistake. 

“Jesse! I said _RELEASE HIM!”_

A roar shook the earth at their feet. Before anyone could react, a pair of shining blue dragons stormed around McCree, twisting around each other as the enemies’ life forces drained. McCree was untouched, only shaken.

The dragons opened a window that Genji had been waiting for in the shadows, taking out the few the dragons did not touch. 

Hanzo attempted to collect himself. Someone needed him and he did not have time to break. 

“Jesse,” Hanzo said again, skidding on his knees to his side. He brushed hair sticky with blood away from McCree’s face. “Jesse, are you alright? Answer me.”

McCree, leaning against a wall, groaned, then growled. “What. The _fuck, Hanz!”_

“The- the dragons weren't-”

“I ain't talking about the goddamn dragons. What the hell were you thinking?!” McCree scolded through winces of pain. “You would have let yourself be imprisoned or worse -- and for what? Me? You should have run, or let them kill me, or-”

“I am _not_ losing you!” Hanzo’s roar echoed in there ears, hanging over the pair. He continued, softer this time. “I am not losing anyone else at my expense.”

“And I'm supposed to be alright with you dying for me?” mumbled McCree. “What if the dragons hadn't come? Would you have taken their bargain. Tell me you wouldn't have.”

“Jess-”

“It does not matter,” interrupted Genji, to his brother’s relief. The younger Shimada lept to them from the rooftops. “The dragons did come, and they saved McCree. For one reason or another.”

Hanzo swore he could hear the smirk in Genji’s voice beneath that visor. He shot him a glare. “I don't know why they came to me,” Hanzo lied. “It was their divine will.” 

“Wait- you didn't call them?” McCree blinked. 

“Occasionally the dragons can come to us without command if their will is strong,” Genji explained. “For… one reason or another.” 

_“Genji,”_ Hanzo warned. 

“So you didn’t plan that?” McCree breathed. “You were actually going to go through with these asshole’s bargain?”

“You cannot understand my actions. Do not question them.”

“No, tell me.” It was a plea, lacking heat. “Why did they come? Why didn’t you just let them kill me, Hanz?”

“He has lost a lot of blood,” Genji intervened. “We need to get medical attention.”

“Yes,” Hanzo nodded. “Help me, Genji.”

-

“You are late,” Genji noted, breaking meditation. 

“I know. I am sorry,” said Hanzo, taking his place next to his brother. He handed him a small cup of tea, prepped the way he liked. “I was with McCree. He is nearly restored.”

It was far harder for Genji to eat compared to the common human.Genji’s armor hissed as it opened, revealing just a bit of flesh so Genji could drink. Hanzo frowned. He frowned every time. He was getting worse at making sure Genji did not notice. “And did you tell him?”

“Tell him what?”

“Why the dragons came to him,” Genji reminded simply. “You know as well as I do why they rushed to your aid.”

“I do not believe we share the same thoughts,” he guarded. 

“I know you, Hanzo. You may not think I do, but it is so.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“I know what you feel for Jesse, brother,” Genji hummed. “Your urge to protect him was so great, the dragons sensed it and stopped at nothing to protect the one you love.”

“‘Love’ is a strong word,” Hanzo flushed. 

“A strong feeling, too,” Genji laughed. “A feeling strong enough to summon the dragons without command.”

“McCree does not know,” he muttered. “Nor should he.”

“He cares for you a great deal, brother. Perhaps he feels the same.”

“He does not need to know,” repeated Hanzo. 

Genji sighed, lowering his head. “Why won’t you let yourself be happy, brother?”

Hanzo took a breath; he did not need Genji upset with him now. “He deserves better than I.”

“Oh?”

“He is a good man. I am not.”

“I do not believe that, and I truly think McCree doesn’t either,” Genji argued. “You saw how he acted when you tried to sacrifice yourself for him. If he did not care for you, he would not have laid his life down for you.”

Hanzo said nothing.

“Even if he does not feel the same romantic feelings you do, he is very clearly your friend. If you confess, he will either return your feelings or gently say he doesn’t feel that way. Nothing will change between you.”

_“Everything_ will change between us.”

“You do not know that.”

“I no longer wish to discuss this,” Hanzo growled. 

“You will think on it?” Genji hummed.

“I will think on it. Change the topic.

\--

_Hanzo had been sitting alone, per usual. Genji claims he’s moved on, but doesn’t stay by Hanzo’s side leaving Hanzo alone in the shadows. Not that this surprised him, of course. He was not trusted. If it wasn’t for the plea of his baby brother, he would be in another country picking up small jobs. He didn’t have anywhere else to go, after all. It was Genji or the Shimada clan, and he would not pick the wrong choice twice. Hanzo would have to get used to observing, doing his job, then retreating._

_Today they were headed to the United Kingdom. Genji was not with them today. Neither was Dr. Ziegler -- to his relief. If looks could kill, Hanzo would not be on this shuttle. He recognizes Mei, a capable scientist; doesn’t look like a fighter, but may just be one of the most lethal members of Overwatch. She was showing something to the young man from Brazil. He didn’t like Hanzo either. Not that they’d met before, but it appears as if he knew who he was. Sideways glares give these things away. The youngest member was listening to Mei as well: Hana Song. Never met her, but knew of her. She was considered a celebrity. There was a strange looking American; Hanzo had maybe seen his outfit in a very old film. He was talking to Lena, who he worked with before, seemed indifferent. Then again, Hanzo has never seen her not smile. She knew the area. This was her home._

_Hanzo flinched when the American rose from his seat, asking Lena to excuse him. His spurs clicked toward the back of the vehicle -- toward where Hanzo was seated -- “pardon me,” he spoke. “Mind if I sit here?”_

_It took the Shimada a second to respond. “I do not mind.”_

_“Thought you might want some company,” he whispered. “Lookin’ mighty lonesome.”_

_“You clearly do not know who I am then,” he huffed._

_“I do,” he stated. “You’re Genji’s brother.”_

_“And yet you want to associate yourself with me?”_

_“Look. I know what happened between you two. I know everyone’s treating you like shit because of it. But Genji still talks highly of you. Reckon maybe that’s enough. Leave you be, if you want. But you might want a friendly face while you’re working with us.”_

_Hanzo’s mind stuttered. “I would like that,” he managed to get out._

_“Name’s McCree. Jesse McCree. Welcome aboard.”_

_“Hanzo, if you did not already know.” He paused. “It is good to meet you.”_

 

McCree’s shoulder gave him a light shove. “Daydreaming?” he smirked, leaning on the counter with him. 

“Sorry. Lost in thought,” Hanzo said.

“Anything in particular?”

Certainly not thinking about you, Hanzo thought, or the day you introduced yourself to me. “No. Nothing.”

“You want me to make you something?” he offered. “Coffee? Getting myself a cup.”

“Your coffee tastes terrible,” he smiled. 

“Now, now. I could make it special for you, Hanz. Make it the way you like it. _Bitter.”_

“No thank you, Jesse,” he huffed. 

The machine sputtered out a brew. “I been thinking. About you.”

“You have?” Hanzo said, trying not to sound eager. 

“How you haven't decided whether you wanna stay here,” he clarified. “Have you?”

“I don't know,” he mumbled. “I cannot go home. Yet I am not welcome here. I have not earned hospitality anywhere. Perhaps I should have remained traveling alone.” 

“That's a lonely life, Hanzo. You know I was doing the same goddamn thing before the recall.”

“Still. It may have been for the best.”

“You regret coming here?”

The archer studied him. “No.”

“That should be reason enough to stay,” he shrugged.

“They do not trust me like they trust you, McCree,” Hanzo huffed. “And with reason.”

“I trust you,” stated McCree, not a trace of dishonesty across his features. He spoke again before Hanzo could respond. “You still got assassins on your ass?”

“Presumably,” he grunted. 

“Overwatch could protect you,” McCree claimed. “You wouldn’t be out in the open. And then--”

“Why are you working so hard to keep me here?” Hanzo frowned. 

“I-” He hesitated. “I think of you as my friend. Don't know if you think the same of me.”

“I trust no one more than I trust you,” he stated. “That does not mean I belong here.”

McCree let out a bashful laugh. “You're flattering me.” He took a long sip of his coffee. “Talking an awful lot about trust, aren't we? Maybe it's less complicated than you're making it out to be.” 

“Jesse.” 

“I think Winston and Lena might be warmin’ up to ya.”

_“Jesse,”_ he repeated. 

“I don't want you out there while there's a bounty on your head, Hanz,” McCree confessed. “‘n don't tell me you'll be fine. You don't know that.”

“This is not important right now,” he hummed. “You were only just released from the doctor’s care; why do you act as if nothing happened?”

“Is that not what we’re discussin’ now? It happened, and if you joined up you’d--”

“You scared me half to death,” Hanzo muttered. “This is not about me. I thought I was going to lose you.”

McCree paused. “I did what I had to. They would’ve killed you.”

“You did not have to,” he breathed. “Never place my safety above your life.”

“That’s bullshit, Hanz. You mean a hell of a lot to me; there’s no way I would have just sat and watched.”

“And you think I could have lived with myself if they took your life?”

“Goes both ways, Hanzo.”

“I…” he stammered. “I- I haven’t… it’s not that I am not grateful for you. I am. But that is why I cannot tolerate your sacrifice.”

McCree sighed. “Nothing's gonna convince you, is it?”

The archer frowned. “I will spend the rest of my life trying to repay your kindness.” 

“Just don't be a stranger, darlin’.” 

“I did not have many friends in my youth,” admitted Hanzo. “None of value, anyway. I am glad to have you.” 

A short laugh. “Same here.”

\--

_Hanzo would have jumped at the “Want some company?” if he had not heard Spurs clicking from a number of feet away._

_“Are you sure it is not you who yearns for company?” Hanzo teased._

_“Now, now. You're the one sitting out here by your lonesome.” The gunslinger took a seat next to Hanzo. “You don't have to, you know. You could come drink with Rein and I.”_

_“Reinhardt does not seem to… enjoy my presence,” he reminded._

_“He will in time,” McCree insisted._

_“I still question why you do,” Hanzo admitted. “Tolerate my presence, that is.”_

_“We ain't so different, you and I.”_

_“No?” he questioned._

_“Take it no one told you about my shitty past,” drawled McCree. “Didn't come here by choice, you know.”_

_“You didn't?” Hanzo blinked._

_“Intrigued, Shimada?” he laughed._

_“Clearly,” he responded. “You cannot just leave this there.”_

_“Alright, alright,” he began. “The tale of ol’ Jesse McCree. Long story short? Joined a gang when I was still a kid. Wasn’t half bad. Worked my way up. Hurt a bunch of people. Eventually got arrested. Then Gabriel Reyes gave me a choice. Go to jail or join Blackwatch. I took ‘not jail.’ But Blackwatch wasn’t no tea party neither. Our methods weren’t always sparklin’. With Blackwatch and Deadlock, I… I carry it, ya know?”_

_“I am sorry,” Hanzo mumbled. “I didn’t know.”_

_“My point, Hanz, is that your past isn’t sparklin’, and if I got a second chance, you should get one too,” he told. “I’m here to try and make up for some of what I’ve done. If you’re here, I’m with you, should you have me.”_

_“I do not know what to say,” he flushed. “You have my thanks. I hope I can amount to your kindness.”_

_“You can start by not being a stranger.” McCree playfully nudged his shoulder. “You ever need anything, come find me. ‘Kay? Maybe we can get drinks sometime.”_

_“I would like that.”_

He had unlocked and locked the screen repeatedly. A passcode for his heart, a lock for his mind. 

Genji insisted it's as simple as a text message. Drawing a bow is simple. Reconnaissance is simple. Crafting words into meaning on a screen is not simple. Not with Jesse. McCree was different, and it irritated Hanzo. 

[Would you like to come to my quarters to--]

Backspace. Too suggestive.

[You promised me a drink cowboy--]

Backspace. 

[Can we--]

Backspace. No.

He cannot string words together on a screen let alone say anything to his face. Pathetic. He might as well throw the tablet at the wall. It would be of the same use to him. 

Hanzo decided to retire it to its charger for now. Genji would be disappointed, Hanzo thinks. But he is not present.


	2. Serape

“You are feeling well?”

“I’m fine.”

“No headaches? Trouble sleeping?”

“I’m _fine,_ Angela,” Jesse sighed. 

“If you would just let me check your vital signs--”

“You second guessing yourself?” he huffed. 

“You made yourself a bargaining chip. Willingly,” muttered Angela. “If you had not gotten back at the speed you did, the consequences could have been dire.”

“Well I did, didn’t I? And y’ patched me up just fine.”

“Why are you so willing to lay your life on the line?” she scolded. “You have people who fret over your safe return. Fareeha didn’t even attempt to sleep when Genji brought you to me in that state.”

“It was worth the risk,” he shrugged. 

“How do you even know whether or not we can trust him yet? I want to believe he means well, but you did not see what he did to Genji. And to die for him?”

“ _I_ trust him,” Jesse retorted. “He’s been here plenty long.”

“But what he did--”

“You don’t trust me?”

“What?” she blinked. “Of course I trust you.”

“Do you know what _I_ did? What Reyes did? And what I did before _that?”_ he barked. “You gave me a second chance; you ain’t got no reason not to give Hanzo one.” 

“It’s not the same thing!” she pleaded. 

“It is so the same thing,” he argued. “If you gave him a goddamn chance, he’d come through. But all of you are so damn _hostile.”_

“I know you, Jesse. We have worked together for years. I trust you with my life, but please understand it will take time for me to be comfortable with Hanzo at my back.” 

“Then we’ll be in front of you.” The gunslinger made his way out of the room. He stopped at the door frame. “I’d lay my life down for him again, Angela. In a goddamn heartbeat.” Spurs clicked on tile. 

-

_“Do you think of it often?”_

_McCree blinked. “Gonna have to be more specific, Hanz.”_

_“Of the past,” he said carefully. “I do not wish to pry.”_

_“It's alright. You're not prying.” He took a breath of smoke. “Reckon I do.”_

_“You told me once that I could talk to you,” Hanzo coaxed. “I want you to know it goes both ways. Should you wish it.”_

_After a short moment, the gunslinger gave a short laugh. “Thank you. Might take you up on that, but not today.”_

-

“Hanz,” announced McCree, giving a small smile as he entered the training room.

Hanzo’s arrow missed the center of the target on his arrival. “Jesse,” he blinked.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just wanted to run something by you.” 

“It is alright; you are not interrupting anything of importance.” The archer placed himself in front of him. “Are you feeling better?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Nothing to concern yourself with.” McCree cleared his throat. “Angela isn’t keen on me gettin’ back on the job, but Winston’s got an easier job for me.”

“How easy? Are you sure you are well?”

“No need to worry, darlin’,” he repeated. “The thing is, they want someone to come with me, and I requested you. Wanted to make sure that’s okay.” 

Hanzo fiddled with his bow. “What did Winston say to that?”

McCree shifted. “Why would he say anything?”

“I know some of the members are… displeased with me for-- well. How I brought you back. As it was my doing.”

“Hanzo,” he almost scolded, but lacking heat, “you didn’t do anything.”

“No, I--”

“I made a choice. It ain’t like you attacked me.”

“It wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t dragged you into it,” he muttered. 

“We already talked about this, Hanz.”

“That does not mean I do not regret.”

McCree stopped himself from arguing and exhaled. “Got another question.”

“Yes?”

“How do you feel about hugging?”

Hanzo believed his face must have been as red as Jesse’s serape. “What a... peculiar question.”

“So no?”

“No, no. Only with someone I trust. With someone I… care for.” The archer swallowed hard.

“Any possibility I fall into one of those categories?” He rubbed his neck again.

“All of them.”

In a moment, Hanzo was overwhelmed with the smell of cigars and cheap cologne and _Jesse--_ the Shimada couldn’t help but let his eyes shut at the feeling. “Want you to stop worrying about what happened. Please.”

“How can I?” Hanzo breathed. “I nearly lost you.”

McCree froze. “That upsets you still?”

“‘We already talked about this,’” he mocked. He wiggled out of McCree’s embrace. “What is this mission you want me to go on?”

“Right. Just a little recon,” told McCree. “‘Y don’t have to go if you don’t want. We’ll have a lot of down time. Might bore you.”

“I will go with you,” nodded Hanzo. 

-

The mission was done quicker than expected. Hanzo was quick when it came to tasks such as these, and with McCree to aid him it was simple. It was pleasant to have after their last mission together.

They spent the night at the hotel provided for them watching bad, old, cowboy movies -- providing a good laugh for both men. Despite his eased spirits, Hanzo barely attempted to fall asleep. He sat upright on his respective bed, glancing every now and then at McCree. The sight made him less on edge. 

“Hanzo?” he mumbled at some point in the night, nearly causing the archer to jump. McCree propped himself on his elbow. “Hanzo, why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I could ask the same of you,” he smirked. 

“Darlin’.” 

“Go back to sleep, Jesse,” he whispered.

“Was it a nightmare? Han, you can talk to me.”

Hanzo sighed. “I cannot fall asleep here. Rest. I will feel better if I am awake to watch.”

“Well I can’t sleep now,” McCree huffed. “Not knowin’ you’re upset.”

“I am not upset.” He caught himself smiling. “This happens often. Do not worry.”

“Reckon there’s something I can do.”

He paused. “No, Jesse. But thank you.”

“Want me to stay up with you? Or switch beds? Or… erm…”

“Would it make you feel better if I laid down?”

“Guess that’ll do.”

-

Hanzo awoke when the jet hit turbulence, confused at the situation before him. He saw red out of the corner of his eye. McCree’s serape, bundled around him as he rested _against Jesse._ Coming to his senses, Hanzo sprang upright with a chorus of apologies.

McCree met it only with a laugh. “It’s fine, Hanz. You didn’t get any sleep last night and I don’t mind.” 

“No,” he fumbled, “it was unprofessional. Forgive me.”

McCree snorted. “Since when have we ever been professional?”

Hanzo hid a smile in Jesse’s serape. “Fair enough. But apologies are still in order.”

“You already gave me those. A hell of a lot of ‘em, sugar; I told you I don’t mind. At all.” 

“Your kindness is misplaced.”

“Ain’t.”

“But--”

“How many times are we gonna have this conversation?”


	3. Photographs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is kind of short but i feel bad for not updating and overall i'm just sorry!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“They gave you the same room?” Hanzo smirked, noting the carvings on the side table and a dent in the wall. He sat upright in McCree’s bed, watching the gunslinger rummage through his unorganized belongings.

“Yeah. Might as well bunk me with the memories if you're gonna bring me back to Overwatch,” shrugged McCree.

“You are sentimental.”

“It's the first time I can remember having a place to call my own. Didn't have to worry about scraping a place to sleep together.” 

“That must have been difficult.”

“Was used to it. Learned young. It was a long time ago.” Hanzo pondered his words, watching McCree pull out old documents. The gunslinger’s face twisted. “Hanz… after -- well, you don't like talkin’ about it -- after Genji and you. When did you learn he wasn't dead?”

“Ten years,” he droned.

“Did you see pictures of before?”

“What are you getting at?”

McCree frowned, holding out a photograph. “Maybe I shouldn't show you this. But maybe it's for the best. Not fair to keep it from you.”

Hanzo paled. The red rage in his brother's eyes, added to the disconfigured body, sections fused unnaturally. Genji stood next to McCree, but in a demeanor unfamiliar on his brother. Hanzo breathed his sibling’s name, then the name of the man in front of him. “Jesse,” he repeated, “why would you give me a chance after seeing him like this?”

“That’s the only way I’d ever seen him. ‘Till now. He had changed before you got here.”

The Shimada shook his head. “He was a man. You didn’t need to see who he was to know. Look at him. Genji was crafted into _this_ \-- because of what _I_ did to him. This is not redeemable.”

McCree crawled on to the bed, placing himself next to Hanzo. “Yeah; he hated you for it. That’s what he said, anyway. Hard not to harbor a grudge against your brother when he tried to kill you.”

“That is reasonable--”

“I ain’t sayin’ this to make you upset, Hanz. I’m saying this because I want you to see how far Genji has come. He says he’s the happiest he’s ever been.”

“That’s not a reason to forgive your brother killing you,” muttered Hanzo. 

“You’ve changed too. Both Genji and I know it.”

“I no longer wish to discuss this. I have training to do.” Hanzo scurried off before McCree could say a word.

\--

 

“Are you in pain?”

Genji adjusted. “You have asked this before.”

The brother furrowed his brow. “I want to know if the answer has changed.” 

“It hasn't,” said Genji. “Any pain I feel is treated.” 

“If… if it does change--” 

“Hanzo,” he sighed. “Your concern is… touching, but you mustn't dwell on it.”

“Jesse showed me your picture,” Hanzo shuddered. “From your days in Blackwatch.” 

“What of them?” 

“What I did to you was… how can you claim to forgive me?”

“And what did McCree say?”

Hanzo exhaled. “That you have changed. That both of us have changed.”

“There we go.” 

“Still.”

“Are _you_ in pain?” questioned Genji. “You consistently appear troubled.”

“I am conflicted with my choices and my future,” he shifted. “It is nothing new. Do not concern yourself.”

“When I was in Blackwatch,” Genji told, “I believed I had nowhere else to go. That I would be better off perished. My Master showed me peace. Sometimes all you need is to let someone in.”

\--

“... see? There he is, Fareeha.” 

“Thanks, Angela.” 

Jesse peered over his shoulder to find Pharah striding toward him. “And tell him to put out that cigar while you're at it,” called Mercy. 

“Trust me, I've tried,” she huffed. 

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” McCree grinned, gripping her shoulder affectionately. 

“I haven't seen you since you were a mess in medical,” she shrugged. 

“That seems to be all people care ‘bout these days.”

“You scared me,” she muttered. “So forgive me is my concern is irritating.”

McCree sighed. “That's not what I meant, ‘Reeha. Just getting tired of people coddling me is all.” 

“I do not aim to coddle,” assured Fareeha. “I see you are healed. That is all I wished to know. Though, I heard a rumor you snapped at Angela.”

“Oh, you always take her side.”

Pharah rolled her eyes. “That is literally all she told me, Jesse. Don't be so dramatic.”

“I _ain't--”_

“She felt bad. We discussed it. It's over.”

“Don't mean you don't agree with her.” 

“She has good reason to be cautious.”

“So you don't like him either.”

“You're jumping to conclusions. I think you should stop being a baby and ask him out already.”

McCree flinched. “Now hold on a damn minute--” 

“Someone's got a crush,” smirked Fareeha.

“Sis,” he groaned. 

“Didn't you work with Genji? Go see if he has advice for you.”

“Shits complicated, ‘Reeha. I can't afford to make it worse.” 

“I bet mother would think you're being a big baby.” 

He huffed.

“I bet Reyes would have --”

“Don’t bring them up, ‘Reeha,” he muttered. “Not now.”

“Still festering over old wounds?”

“Go ahead, call me a baby again,” Jesse shrugged, taking a long inhale of smoke. “I miss your ‘ma. I miss that jackass Reyes. I didn’t have family to speak of. They were the closest thing.”

“They’re gone. Of course I miss Uncle Ga-- Reyes and them, but I have moved on,” she hummed. 

“You never were one for touchy-feely crap.”

“No. I’m not good at it,” she agreed. “But something is clearly bothering you, so. Not all of your family is gone, Jesse. I’m still here. Angela. Reinhardt. All I meant was if you do feel something for Hanzo -- which, yes, I’m assuming you do based on your previous actions -- you should see if he feels the same. Don’t you think you deserve a little happiness?”

McCree sighed. “I don’t know.”

Fareeha punched him hard in the arm. “You’re as much of a stubborn asshole as you used to be.”

“Love you too.” 

\--

There was light tapping down the hallway. It was _late,_ therefore any noise was confusing. Before McCree could adjust to find the source, Hanzo hurdled himself over the couch, falling right next to him. “Jesse.”

“Howdy,” he smiled. He held out his drink. “Want some?”

Hanzo’s face scrunched. “No thank you.”

“Didn’t think so.” McCree took a swig, then placed it back on the coffee table.

“It looks vile.”

McCree laughed. “So, to what to I owe this pleasure, darlin’?” 

“I wanted to talk to you. If that’s alright.”

The gunslinger blinked, adjusting upright. “Yeah. Anytime, Hanzo. What’s up?” 

“I wanted to apologize for leaving so abruptly earlier,” he started. 

“It’s alright, Hanz. Really.”

“I have scared many away. I don’t want that to happen to us.”

“Me neither,” McCree breathed before clearing his throat. “I understand, though. I crossed a boundary. I shouldn’t have upset you like that.” 

“You had good intentions,” said Hanzo, trying a small smile. “Jesse. I have been at war with myself the second my father ordered me to kill Genji. I still cannot deal with it. I want to thank you for being here.”

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he blushed. “It’s my pleasure. Wager you’d do the same for me.”

“Yes,” he replied instantly. “You… have said we are similar, and that the past troubles you as well. Please remember that I am here as well.”

Jesse beamed, daring to brush stray hair out of Hanzo’s face. “You’re too good to me.”

“Not good enough,” Hanzo refuted.

McCree paused. “Maybe it’s foolish, to think this, but do you…” He glanced at the alcohol at his side. 

Hanzo squirmed. “What?”

“Would you want to hang with Hana, Lena and them?” McCree cursed profusely in his head. “I’d wager they’d warm up to you.”

“Oh,” Hanzo shrunk. “Perhaps if you are there. Yes.”

“Cool,” McCree stammered. “I’ll -- uh -- see what’s what and then I’ll, yeah.”

“Okay,” said Hanzo. 

“Well, I’d better hit the hay, so, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

McCree flew off the couch, heart pounding in his throat. Many colorful phrases were muttered down the hall, all negative curses about the cowboy muttering them.


End file.
